When the stranger moved within reach, Conall sprang. He launched himself horizontally, arms outstretched, and tackled the man about his knees with a roar. The stranger screamed as both he and Conall were plunged into yet another deep drift, and Conall scrambled up the man, drawing his dagger as he went, until he was face-to-face with the still-screaming visitor. Conall pushed the dagger point beneath the man’s chin.
’Twas his brother.
“Och, for the love of—Duncan!Duncan!”Conall shouted to be heard over his brother’s shrill yells. Conall slapped Duncan’s gray cheeks. “Shut up! ’Tis only I!”
Duncan’s teeth clicked shut and he focused wide, wild green eyes on Conall.
“Conall?” Then he began to flail. “You arsehole bastard pig, son of a whore from England, dung-eatin’—”
Conall stood and pulled the still-cursing Duncan from the drift.
“—bugger! You nearly scared the life from me, you mangy warthog!” Duncan shook himself and spat snow from his mouth. “And me bravin’ this weather to bring you supplies out of the kindness of me own heart, you sneakin’ rat’s cock.”
Conall couldn’t help but chuckle. “You’ve nae called me a sneakin’ rat’s cock before—good on you, Dunc.”
“To hell with you,” Duncan grumbled. Conall’s scrawny brother threw his pack higher onto his back. “Why’d you attack me like that? Glory, Conall, who else’d be teched enough to wander about these woods in the corpse-cold?”
“I—” Conall cut himself off. He had promised Eve he would not reveal her presence and so he would keep his word. Besides, Duncan was not the exact definition of discretion; if Conall told him he was making house with a young Buchanan lass, the whole of the MacKerrick town would know it by sunset.
Conall had his own reasons for keeping Evelyn Buchanan’s existence a secret from his clan.
“Well?” Duncan demanded. “Doona stand there starin’ at me like a knot on a log—I’m near to freezin’ me bollocks off.” Duncan made to stalk past Conall, but Conall reached out an arm and dragged Duncan back, nearly taking the smaller man off his feet once more.
Duncan shook free with a hoarse cry and put his face near Conall’s, a slender, bony finger pointing at Conall’s nose.
“Grab at me once more, brother…” he warned.
“You canna go to the hut, Dunc. I’m sorry.”
“And why is that, you stingy bastard?”
Conall couldn’t help but glance over his shoulder. “I canna tell you the why of it just now. You must trust me.”
Duncan’s green eyes narrowed. “Who’s there?”
“No one.” Conall felt himself flush.
“Liar! IknewI heard a voice. And”—he put himself nose to chin with Conall once more—“it sounded like awoman!”
Conall shook his head adamantly.
“Who is she, Conall?”
“I canna say.”
“Ha!” Duncan fairly jumped into the air. “Itisa woman!”
’Twas moments such as this when Conall wondered if he had any brains in his head at all.
Conall made a grab for Duncan’s pack to cover his discomfiture. “What did you bring?”
But Duncan stepped nimbly aside. “Ah-ah,” he taunted. “Nae until you tell me what mischief you’ve run upon.” His eyes narrowed with concern and he looked Conall up and down. “You’ve nae been taken in by the fae, have you?”
“Of course nae.”
“Then tell me, or I’m leavin’—withme pack.”
Conall closed his eyes for a moment and sighed. “Duncan, you are my brother, me very twin. If I could tell anyone, ’twould be you.”
